Wednesday, January 30, 2013

You Damned Kids by Steve Ormosi

I've always been fascinated with dark carnival stories. Thought I'd try my hand at a short one. Turns out I like being able to come up with a few characters and just be able to plop them in some sort of situation that just makes no sense... and then giving them a really shitty guide through it.

We drank black wine and mumbled obscenities to each other as
the day slunk away and the night blossomed.
Darius smoked a clove cigarette while we stood, the wisps of smoke
curling away over our heads like escaping spirits. Anka and Obsidia tittered amongst themselves,
black makeup coating their faces. And
I. I smiled the whole time. Knowing what I knew, I couldn’t help it. It was the carnival of sin, the carnival of
souls, of death, of destruction. It was
darkness made real. And though I did not
know which of my friends might emerge whole, I could be sure we’d all
understand each other better by the end.

The night began in earnest as we rushed through the gates,
skillfully decorated to ward off the pure.
A midget dressed in a deep purple vest and top hat greeted us with
vigor.

“Step right through, you lost, you damned,” he said, “The
carnival begins tonight, and who knows how long it will be in town?”

We all but ignored the small man’s screeching and headed
straight for the fun house. Of all my
friends, I was the only one who had been to the last carnival and they knew
that I would be there to guide them.
What they could not know was that one cannot be guided through the
carnival any more than one can be guided through their own soul. I had tried to warn them, but I knew that
they would not understand. I didn’t
begrudge them for their ignorance. I’d
been the same as them once.

Anka drew close to me as we neared the fun house, “What’s in
there?” she asked with some trepidation.

I pointed to her chest and replied, “What’s in there?”

She withdrew coldly and linked arms with Darius, whispering
to him, as they followed me through the inner threshold.

Obsidia was at the rear and I looked back at her, “Don’t
stay there. The back is always the
worst.”

She quietly moved up next to me and slid her arm around
mine. That was not what I’d intended by
the comment but I could not say that I didn’t enjoy the sensation of feeling
her warmth on my side. She looked up at
me innocently and I returned the gesture, though I knew it was empty.

As we got to the mirrors, the world seemed to shift. Things became gray and hazy, as though we had
entered a fog. Obsidia and I looked into
the mirror before us as one, I can only imagine what she saw. As for me, that image of us swallowing each
other, Ouroboros-like, scrawled itself into my brain. I tried to turn away, but the mirror would
not let me. Not until I heard the
scream.

At first I thought, it must be Anka, but I looked behind me
and it was Darius on the ground clawing his way backwards, away from the
mirror, eyes fixed on the place his reflection had been. He was still letting out a glass-shattering
scream, “TAKE HER, NOT ME! NEVER AGAIN!”
He was pointing at Anka. Tears began to
roll down her cheeks as she stared at him.

Darius had finally scratched his way to the back wall and
had gone fetal. Anka walked up to me, “I
don’t like this place,” she said, “We need to leave.”

“You’re being tested,” I told her, “We’re all being tested.”

I expected Obsidia to back Anka up, but she was
conspicuously quiet. She had let go of
my arm and was simply staring into our mirror. Her slack jawed expression reminded me of a
mental patient in the grips of her medication.
I reached up to hold her, but her hand snatched mine from the air.

“Don’t touch me.” She
said quietly. “Don’t ever touch me.”

I snatched my hand back, alarmed at first, but that swiftly
turned into knowing acceptance. Then I
turned back to Anka, “See? Obsidia
understands.” I put my arm around Anka’s
shoulder’s gently, “Come on, let’s look together.” I heard Darius softly weeping in the corner,
but I ignored it. He would be ok or he
would not. There was nothing I could do
for him now.

Anka allowed me to guide her back to the mirror, but as soon
as she pulled her chin up to look, she turned away.

“Look at it,” I whispered in her ear, “How will you see who
you are if you don’t look?”

“I don’t want to know who I am anymore.” She protested. “I want to go home. Obsidia, let’s get out of here.”

“Well I’m leaving,” said Anka tearing herself out of my
arms. With that she ran out. I never saw her again. She wasn’t worthy of me. Of us.

Obsidia remained glued to her mirror and I picked a new one
to stare into for the rest of the night.

By the next morning we sprawled on the ground stone faced
and exhausted from the previous night’s visions. We picked ourselves up and walked out of the
fun house with Darius in tow, mumbling obscenities only to himself now, barely
audible and completely unintelligible.
The carnival workers were packing up, as though this whole production
had been only for us and now that we had seen what we’d come to see, there was
no reason for them to stay.

They took Darius to an asylum a few days later, when it was
clear he’d had a breakdown. Obsidia and
I have spoken every day since, but never of what we saw in those mirrors. Life has become increasingly boring. These days all I can do is brood and wait for
the next carnival.